


i'm weak with indecision

by lilaclavenders



Series: greatly appreciated [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, Vague mentions of Chris' boyfriend/fiance, Vague mentions of JJ, Vague mentions of Yuuri, Victor spelled with a k
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 18:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15418539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilaclavenders/pseuds/lilaclavenders
Summary: "We've been engaged for almost a year, Viktor," Chris sighs. "How many people have you gone through in that time?" How many times have you gotten scared of falling in love?"I’m not one to kiss and tell,” Viktor gasps, in mock shock. “You know me!" Viktor winks at the camera lens, ignoring the look of concern on his friend's face."I do know you," Chris agrees, solemnly, "Which is why I know you're so lonely." He sighs, trying to decipher if Viktor momentarily froze in response, or if it’s just his phone. It’s nice to know that Viktor isn’t always careful, with how careless he seems.(Viktor doesn't like admitting he's lonely and craves company.)





	i'm weak with indecision

**Author's Note:**

> who knows what's happening? bc idk

Viktor facetimes pretty much the only person he's only ever allowed to stay in contact with him. Emotionally, not physically, of course - Chris couldn't possibly handle being in the same room as Viktor for too long, without feeling a big urge to punch him in the face. Although, how they met was through a past encounter, of sorts, so Chris is anything but a Saint, even compared to Viktor.

 

The call goes through and Viktor is greeted by such a sickeningly domestic display of a man, that he almost feels sick. Chris lounges lazily on his sofa, wearing an oversized cable knit jumper and his glasses. Viktor can see the Swiss man’s favourite mug on the table to his right. “Viktor,” Chris greets his caller.  

 

Viktor’s attention is briefly captured by a cat, the same colour as Chris’ attire. “I know it’s a bit early, but I’m going out!”

 

" _Mon Chéri_ , all of these games will catch up to you," Chris' voice is anything but sympathetic, bordering on irritated. "Just a week ago, I had a drunk, Canadian man cry about how he gave you the best blow job of his life and then you left, no more than a quarter of an hour later."

 

Chris owns a pub, fifteen minutes away from Viktor’s fake apartment and half an hour away from his real one. As much as he despises Viktor’s behaviour, he turns a blind eye whenever his friend leaves with someone he probably will never serve again. He complains that Viktor’s driving away his good customers; Viktor just says it’s not his fault they weren’t good enough for him.

 

Just because someone’s got a lot of money to burn, doesn’t mean they have to gamble it all away. No one deserves to live life resigned to having to go through unnecessary pain to get what you want, in the end.

 

Chris wonders if Viktor seems to think he was born out of the loins of Gods and rivers of ambrosia. Chris, on the other hand, thinks he’s got all the divinity and purity (or lack thereof) of Zeus – Even if Viktor can conjure up a storm, who knows if he’ll be able to weather through one? The belief that you could be anything legendary, anything indestructible can only get you so far; thunder always comes after lightning.

 

"What was that?" Viktor distractedly asks, concentrating on his hair. He squints at the mirror, meticulously running his fingers through his hair. He murmurs, "Should I go with the black or grey shirt?"

 

Disbelief immediately colours the blond's voice, "Jean-Jacques?" He mutters, almost inaudible to Viktor, "He looked pretty devastated."

 

"Hm?" Viktor says, popping his head back into the shot. "The black shirt?"

 

Chris echoes, frustrated, "Sure, Viktor, wear the black shirt." He rolls his eyes, the green of his irises glare at the screen, and his nostrils flare at how emotionally detached his friend is. "I'm getting too old for this. So are you."

 

"Tell Masumi it's not too late to abandon ship," Viktor chirps, blatantly ignoring Chris in favour of dabbing aftershave on his pulse points.  

 

"We've been engaged for almost a year, Viktor," Chris sighs. "How many people have you gone through in that time?" _How many times have you gotten scared of falling in love?_

 

"I’m not one to kiss and tell,” Viktor gasps, in mock shock. “You know me!" Viktor winks at the camera lens, ignoring the look of concern on his friend's face.

 

"I do know you," Chris agrees, solemnly, "Which is why I know you're so lonely." He sighs, trying to decipher if Viktor momentarily froze in response, or if it’s just his phone. It’s nice to know that Viktor isn’t always careful, with how careless he seems.  

 

"How wishful of you," Viktor teases, "To think that I, out of all people, would feel like that! I'm at the top; I'm not ready to be chained down so easily, unlike some people." He suggestively glances at the lens, blowing a kiss before laughing.

 

"Wow," Chris seethes, glaring at the screen. "You're a piece of work."

 

“And yet, you still couldn’t resist my charms!” Viktor chirps, winking at the screen.

 

Chris raises an eyebrow and a middle finger at the camera, shaking his head in defeat.

 

“It would take a hurricane to bring you down,” Chris chuckles. He drops the frown, replacing it with a worn smile.

 

“Of course,” Viktor replies, his voice strained.  “Chris?”

 

“Hm?”

 

Viktor avoids eye contact by focusing on his shirt buttons and attempts to ask casually, “If someone left something of theirs at your apartment, would you keep it? Or would you return it to them?”

 

“I would return it to them,” Chris replies, suspicious. “Why? You don’t usually return any of the things your… guests leave behind. Besides, why are you asking me?”

 

Viktor vaguely gestures, waving his hand. “It’s an entire bag... full of stuff.” He clearly ignores Chris’ second question, sheepishly grinning off-camera.

 

“Oh,” Chris ponders, giving the screen a scrutinising look. “Then you should return it- You know, you don’t have to hide behind really weird metaphors or whatever, you can just talk to me like a normal person.”

 

“Okay, see you later,” Viktor nods hurriedly.

 

“As always,” Chris grins, as bright-eyed as the day Viktor had met him, “Happy birthday, Viktor.” Then, He pauses. “I hope you find someone who you can be truly honest to.”

 

Viktor snorts, “Thanks, _Mon ami_ ,” and then hangs up.

 

Viktor Nikiforov has not returned to his lavishly bare apartment for a few weeks, he has not changed the sheets that smell like _him_ and he has not once visited the places he used to walk with whoever _he_ was; though he does have a Hershel backpack containing an assortment of books, an empty coffee flask (covered in blue poodles) and a student ID, all belonging to a certain _Yuuri Katsuki._

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
